{"id":2538,"date":"2018-01-01T23:58:55","date_gmt":"2018-01-02T04:58:55","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/bowdoinglobalist.com\/?p=2538"},"modified":"2023-12-11T14:11:21","modified_gmt":"2023-12-11T14:11:21","slug":"color-in-a-white-house-the-obamas-reimagined","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/students.bowdoin.edu\/bowdoin-review\/art\/color-in-a-white-house-the-obamas-reimagined\/","title":{"rendered":"Color in a White House: The Obamas Reimagined"},"content":{"rendered":"
\"Photo<\/a>
Photo by flickr.com user Hrag Vartanian<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

The Presidential Portraits exhibition of the <\/span>Smithsonian<\/span><\/a>\u2019s National Portrait Gallery houses presidential art ranging from a bust of Woodrow Wilson to a gold-framed photograph of Martin van Buren. Evoking emotional responses from warmth to awe, the Presidential Portraits claim to <\/span>\u201ctell the American story,\u201d<\/span><\/a> and the newest chapter about to be included is that of black America.<\/span><\/p>\n

President Barack Obama and First Lady Michelle Obama commissioned Kehinde Wiley and Amy Sherald, two black artists, for their respective Portraits, which will be unveiled at the museum in early 2018 and added to the Portrait Gallery\u2019s permanent collection. Wiley will paint the President and Sherald the First Lady.<\/span><\/p>\n

The most famous artistic portrayal of President Obama is Shepard Fairey\u2019s 2008<\/span>Obama “HOPE” Portrait<\/span><\/a>, which The New Yorker praised as \u201cthe most efficacious American political illustration since \u2018Uncle Sam Wants You.\u2019\u201d Fairey edited a photograph taken in 2006 by Mannie Garcia of the Associated Press; the Associated Press \u201c<\/span>is seeking credit and compensation for its use in Mr. Fairey\u2019s works<\/span><\/a>,\u201d but a lawyer for Fairey told the Associated Press that the artist was <\/span>\u201cprotected by fair-use standards.\u201d<\/span><\/a> It remains unclear how credit for the artwork will be given.<\/span><\/p>\n

The \u201cHOPE\u201d Portrait, first created as a poster, exudes omnipotent optimism; the use of both red and blue represents bipartisan unity, the pin on Obama\u2019s lapel shows the arc of a road to progress, and the capitalized HOPE embodies the post-racism America that so many dreamed Obama would bring to fruition. Used as the campaign image for the 2008 election, the \u201cHOPE\u201d Portrait was adopted by thousands of supporters and plastered onto a plethora of merchandise.<\/span><\/p>\n

The \u201cHOPE\u201d Portrait now resides in the National Portrait Gallery, where it will soon be joined by Kehinde Wiley\u2019s interpretation of President Barack Obama. Whereas the \u201cHOPE\u201d Portrait was a strategic piece of a highly publicized campaign ending in a post-Civil Rights Movement victory, Wiley\u2019s post-presidency portrait will mix sadness into that triumph. Obama brought systemic change to America in his two terms, but his successor threatens to erode all that he worked so hard to create.<\/span><\/p>\n

As Wiley and Sherald are the first black artists commissioned to paint a presidential couple, this purposeful choice commences a new age of well-deserved visibility for black artists. Though <\/span>those quick to criticize the Obamas may make the case that the infamous \u201crace card\u201d granted <\/span>Wiley and Sherald<\/span> representation in the Smithsonian, Wiley and Sherald\u2019s critically acclaimed talent is undeniable. Both artists have developed unique, lush artistic styles communicating immense feeling. The motivation of racial equity behind the Obamas\u2019 portrait artist choices is well-meaning, should be celebrated, and does not in any way diminish the power of these creative styles.<\/span><\/p>\n

Kehinde Wiley\u2019s work serves as the antidote to both the media\u2019s \u201cthug,\u201d inserting gentleness into black masculinity, and to whitewashed history, reconstructing classical images with black people. Amy Sherald\u2019s work explores blackness through lightheartedness, absurdity, and challenging moral questions about nationalism and symbolism.<\/span><\/p>\n

Kehinde Wiley\u2019s portraiture is arresting, glossy, and expansive. He said of the opportunity to represent President Obama, <\/span>\u201cI\u2019m excited about it: It\u2019s going to be amazing.\u201d<\/span><\/a> Wiley often positions his subject in the center of the frame in front of a delicate, ornate backdrop. Consider 2009\u2019s <\/span> After Sir Anthony Van Dyck\u2019s “Triple Portrait Of Charles I<\/span><\/a>,\u201d<\/span><\/i>whose title pays homage to Sir Anthony Van Dyck\u2019s 1653 tri-angle portrait, <\/span>Charles I in Three Positions<\/span><\/a>. Wiley\u2019s piece shows a black man clad in a casual bomber jacket and flat-brimmed hat. The man exudes softness; he gazes into the viewer\u2019s eyes and holds a hand against his torso as if he is nursing a wound. The background of cheerful yellow and delicate pink cherry blossoms is at times superimposed over the man; he is part of the nature and gentleness. <\/span><\/p>\n

Wiley attacks the stereotype of the young, black male \u201cthug\u201d by showing black men as sources of softness and light, not hyper-masculinity or aggression. Wiley cites <\/span>a crumpled mugshot of a young black man that he found in Harlem<\/span><\/a> as artistic inspiration: \u201cI see this piece of paper, and I\u2019m looking at him, and he\u2019s got these weird necklaces on. He\u2019s got this really beautiful, sympathetic face. And I\u2019m like, \u2018This has to be a portrait!\u2019\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Wiley\u2019s newest maritime-themed exhibition is currently displayed in the <\/span>Stephen Friedman Gallery in London<\/span><\/a> and uses real Haitian citizens as models. Both the lavishly textured ocean waves and carefree black sailors emit a celestial glow. The paintings <\/span>venture into new domain by showing black people embracing <\/span>\u201c<\/span>gentlemen\u2019s leisure, or a certain aspect of Western ingenuity and know-how.\u201d<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n

Wiley\u2019s boldest social experiment is thrusting black figures into antiquity, often via classical or religious imagery. 2016\u2019s <\/span> Christ After Lady Macbeth II<\/span><\/a>depicts a black Jesus Christ sporting a golden chain and cross that embody 90s streetwear more than a Roman crucifixion. In 2016\u2019s <\/span>The Virgin And Child Enthroned<\/span><\/a>, Wiley reimagines the Madonna and Child with a young black father and his child seated in a throne in front of the stained glass windows and black-and-white tiled floors indicative of an English church, both sporting skinny jeans and basketball sneakers. <\/span><\/p>\n

In 2012\u2019s <\/span>Judith And Holofernes<\/span><\/a>, notably during the year of Obama\u2019s re-election, Wiley reimagines Caravaggio\u2019s 1602 work<\/span> Judith Beheading Holofernes<\/span><\/a>, a scene from the deuterocanonical Book of Judith in which the widow Judith decapitates the Assyrian general Holofernes with a sword. Caravaggio\u2019s piece depicts three white figures: Judith, Holofernes, and Judith\u2019s maid Abra, watching over her mistress at this tense moment and supporting the violence. Wiley\u2019s piece, however, depicts only two figures, one white and one black, where a black woman holds the head of a white woman in one hand and a sword in the other. No one else is present to mollify the conflict between the two women, and a racial narrative has likely been inserted. Adding a black perspective to a historically white political narrative argues that black people deserve more representation in government <\/span>now<\/span><\/i> and that history should never again appear so homogenous. <\/span><\/p>\n

The background of Caravaggio\u2019s piece is dark and brooding, all shadows and swathes of crimson fabric, whereas the background of Wiley\u2019s piece lends lightness to gory violence with flowers in brilliant green, orange, and blue. The Obamas\u2019 choice to commission Wiley shows that the couple is unafraid of controversy and of perhaps embracing imagery of black power.<\/span><\/p>\n

In using black figures to depict classical art, Wiley forces viewers to consider what history looked like as it occurred and how our imagery of history is controlled by our artists and historians now. Who owns history? Who deserves to control how history enters the modern day? Wiley argues that history is widely available in a democracy and granted the right to include modern perceptions; his Biblical imagery includes the artistic liberty of black men in basketball sneakers because those men influence both how he travels through the world today and how he interacts with the classical sources that inform our modern world.<\/span><\/p>\n

While Wiley\u2019s work embraces social and moral questions through natural imagery, light, and softness, Amy Sherald\u2019s work fuses the quotidian with the playfully absurd. Sherald\u2019s portraits are currently displayed in the following exhibitions: <\/span>The Outwin 2016<\/span><\/a>, <\/span>Face to Face: Los Angeles Collects Portraiture<\/span><\/a>, and several public collections. <\/span>In May 2018<\/span><\/a>, <\/span>she will show a solo exhibition at Contemporary Art Museum, St. Louis, MO.<\/span><\/p>\n

Sherald\u2019s work uses pastel charm to capture emotional complexity. In 2011\u2019s <\/span>It Made Sense… Mostly In Her Mind<\/span><\/a>, a black woman in decorative jockey\u2019s garb holds a bridled toy unicorn. It is unexpected to see a black figure both as an upper-class equestrian and as a vision of leisure. In 2011\u2019s powerfully titled <\/span>High Yella Masterpiece: We Ain’t No Cotton Pickin’ Negroes<\/span><\/a>, two sharply suited men with pale brown skin stand in front of a yellow backdrop and hold pink clouds of cotton candy. Sherman here adopts two clever wordplays: first, toying with the late 19th and early-20th century notion of a \u201chigh yellow\u201d person, someone with predominantly European ancestry but just enough black blood to be noticeably non-white, and two, giving the black men cotton candy. Antebellum slaves picked cotton to survive, but these liberated 21st-century black men eat cotton candy in their leisure. Their self-assured expressions and dashing suits infer that they laugh at the notion that they could be considered inferior; they, too, have the right to be carefree after centuries of bondage.<\/span><\/p>\n

Though Sherald\u2019s work deals with social issues faced by black people, she uses grayscale, a range of deep, silvery hues, as her portrait subjects\u2019 skin colors. Sherald\u2019s playing with skin color further engages the viewer. She expresses the black experience while lessening the emphasis on skin color, suggesting that blackness is more internal than external.<\/span><\/p>\n

Sherald also grapples with the question of how a historically oppressed race can or should engage with American nationalism. In 2017\u2019s <\/span>What’s Precious Inside of Him Does Not Care to be Known by the Mind in Ways That Diminish its Presence (All American)<\/span><\/a>, Sherald surprises her viewer with a black cowboy, clad in an American-flag patterned button-down shirt, jeans held up by a Western belt with a galloping horse on the buckle, and a black cowboy hat. Though Wild West films portrayed cowboys as the staunchly white counterpart to their \u201cIndian\u201d rivals, the Smithsonian reports that one in four cowboys were black. Former slaves were often hired as cowhands, learning how to lasso, shoot, and even \u201cdare-devil ride\u201d for leisure. Though Sherald\u2019s painting title here argues that the man\u2019s blackness does not inhibit him from contributing to an \u201cAll-American\u201d societal role, one must consider what employment choices would have been available to a freed slave and why a black man would have become a cowboy. <\/span><\/p>\n

Since the image of the black, flag-clad cowboy is surprising, one must consider why that is so. In addition to the media\u2019s erasure of the black cowboy, the notion of a black person wearing an American flag feels shocking in 2017, the year of kneeling during the National Anthem in order to protest racial inequality and hot debates over how a symbol of a nation should be treated in public discourse. Sherald poses the timely question: since all Americans deserve to feel represented by their flag, how can that social goal be achieved?<\/span><\/p>\n

Kehinde Wiley and Amy Sherald will each add a fascinating portrait to the <\/span>Smithsonian<\/span><\/a>\u2019s National Portrait Gallery. Wiley\u2019s central themes of blackness, masculinity, and antiquity will provide a fresh insight into President Barack Obama\u2019s unprecedented tale of triumph and loss. Sherald\u2019s central themes of brevity, reclaiming narratives, and nationalism will capture the innovation and pride First Lady Michelle Obama showed while under duress. Hopefully, the increased visibility for these pioneers of black art will prompt Americans to engage with more artists of color. Wiley and Sherald remind us that we have the agency to control our history; their vision juxtaposes the black President and First Lady against a thoroughly White House.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

The Presidential Portraits exhibition of the Smithsonian\u2019s National Portrait Gallery houses presidential art ranging from a bust of Woodrow Wilson to a gold-framed photograph of Martin van Buren. Evoking emotional responses from warmth to awe, the Presidential Portraits claim to \u201ctell the American story,\u201d and the newest chapter about to be included is that of […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":691,"featured_media":2561,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_genesis_hide_title":false,"_genesis_hide_breadcrumbs":false,"_genesis_hide_singular_image":false,"_genesis_hide_footer_widgets":false,"_genesis_custom_body_class":"","_genesis_custom_post_class":"","_genesis_layout":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[4,11],"tags":[276],"class_list":{"0":"post-2538","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","5":"has-post-thumbnail","7":"category-art","8":"category-features","9":"tag-presidential-portraiture","10":"entry"},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/students.bowdoin.edu\/bowdoin-review\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2538","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/students.bowdoin.edu\/bowdoin-review\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/students.bowdoin.edu\/bowdoin-review\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/students.bowdoin.edu\/bowdoin-review\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/691"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/students.bowdoin.edu\/bowdoin-review\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2538"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/students.bowdoin.edu\/bowdoin-review\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2538\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/students.bowdoin.edu\/bowdoin-review\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/2561"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/students.bowdoin.edu\/bowdoin-review\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2538"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/students.bowdoin.edu\/bowdoin-review\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2538"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/students.bowdoin.edu\/bowdoin-review\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2538"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}